


Always/Lost

by YoungWildThing



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, F/M, Longing, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:44:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoungWildThing/pseuds/YoungWildThing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bass's thoughts during "Happy Endings" after he discovers Charlie and Connor. He realizes something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always/Lost

**Author's Note:**

> This actually takes place during the episode, so if you haven't seen it, you might not understand. It's meant to be erratic because in my head, that's how Bass thinks. Enjoy!

I always thought the first time I saw her skin so bare my lips would be upon it. I know that’s really dumb to think, and shows a ridiculous amount of sappy-ass hope, but—it was far more likely than this. Or, so I naïvely thought.

I don’t know what was more unpleasant when I saw her lying in the dirt with my son: just the sheer sight of the horror itself or the feeling of my blood boiling as I reacted to it. I wanted to claw my eyes out, to kick something, to punch an inanimate object so hard I hurt myself as much as it. That wasn’t practical, so I didn’t do it. I just seethed. Like a loser.

But if I were to unleash the full torrent of how pissed off I am, what would that look like? I could never hurt either of them; I would never...this whole misadventure proves that. But—I mean—would I _say_ something to them? Would I tell them why this was a problem for me? And I mean the real reasons—not the reasons I give Connor about her being Miles’s niece and a distraction from the plan, etcetera. Like, I mean, how it _really_ makes me feel.

Feelings. Pfft. I could do without those right now. A year ago, I would’ve probably had them executed. No, that’s a lie.  I lo—I just wouldn’t. They’re close to me. Connor is my son and Charlie is my—Miles’s niece. And Miles is family; so, by extension, Charlie is too. I should be looking out for her. I’m being protective—that’s it. I’m protective of her. I know she can handle herself, but my son is obviously an asshole.

No, that’s not it. She’s the one using him. He’s the one with his feelings hurt—so why am I protecting her? Why won’t I get angry at her? I mean, I _am_ angry at her. She shouldn’t want my son.

And I shouldn’t be angry. It just goes round in circles in my head and I’m too stable right now to fall into this trap of me wanting the people I lo...people I have in my life to be how I want them to be. People are going to do whatever the fuck they want. I have no control over it. And I wouldn’t want to control her anyhow. She wanders through this world so beautifully I wouldn’t want to hinder that.

So, what if she does something that makes me want to blow my brains out and die? It doesn’t change this feeling coursing around inside of me so strong I think my tonsils might explode. Are exploding tonsils even a thing? My throat is dry and I feel very subpar. This isn’t me...except it is. I’m the guy who feels things and tries to make myself... _not_. Miles simply pretends he doesn’t feel. I actually try to wipe it away.

But I can’t. I can’t. She is so...her hair bounces when she walks, whipped around by the cool wind. She looks like she’s from a shampoo commercial and she doesn’t even use shampoo. I know, because one time when we were fighting in close quarters, I got some of her hair in my mouth. It didn’t taste like hair powder. It didn’t smell like lemon or almonds...it just smelled like _her_. I can never get the smell of her out of my mind and I don’t want to. I won’t.

After I berate Connor and he gives me an ultimatum and stalks off, she walks up to me. She asks me if I got the mercenaries. I did. They haven’t been paid for. I tell her all this, but it’s hard to force the words to come out of my mouth. At first, it’s actually hard to look at her. But then I do and then my eyes can’t break away. She looks at me with such wide, bright eyes as though nothing in the world is wrong. And I suppose it’s not in her world; from her perspective, things are probably going pretty good. After all, she did just get laid.

I’m so lost in her eyes. I’m so lost in her. I’m not even happy with what she did, but I’m still in thrall. And I probably always will be.


End file.
